


Booze and Breakdowns

by unavoidablekoishi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Multi, also character spoilers but not plot spoilers. well...not really, also gratuitous headcanons, and drinking, and maybe getting far too into each other, anyway, au where usami is their teacher, basically miu's quest to get wasted, expect crying, i guess, iruma likes talking about dicks, spilling all of the emotions, talk of death i guess?, underage drinking i guess, who fuckin knew, who fuckin knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:37:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidablekoishi/pseuds/unavoidablekoishi
Summary: Miu just wants to get wasted for just one night- just one night- even if it takes bargaining with every single goddamn person in this place.She didn't, however, expect it to turn into an emotional shitstorm. Or to find friends in the least appreciated of their group.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Jeez, is there nothing in this damn thing?”

 

Iruma slams the refrigerator door shut with far too much force.

 

“Thing’s fuckin’ emptier than my--“

 

“H-Hawawa!! I-Iruma, please don’t be too rough with the kitchen appliances!”

 

The appearance of a small, white rabbit, wibbling softly, was enough to draw a huff from Miu. She rolls her eyes in an overly-exaggerated manner as the rabbit continued.

 

“T-There’s plenty of food and drink in the refrigerator- I-I checked!”

 

“Yeah, what I meant was, there’s nothing in there that I wanna eat. Have we got anything different...? Anything that doesn’t belong in a hippie’s lunchbox?” Iruma glances around the kitchen, now feeling fairly agitated due to the lack of fruition in regards to her little snack hunt.

 

“I-Iruma, I’m a little worried about your eating habits...I’m trying to keep everybody eating healthy and nutritious food but it’s not good to skip meals to work on your inventions!” Usami tells her, though when Iruma glares down at her, she recoils with a whimper.

 

“So you’ve got nothing else? What about booze, huh?”

 

“You’re a minor! A-Alcohol is strictly forbidden for people of your age group!!”

 

Another eye-roll from Iruma, mostly because the rabbit does have a fair point but that’s only the purchasing of alcohol and not the drinking of alcohol, right? Besides, it’s not like she’s that young anyway...

 

Although...

 

“Then what about the gremlin, huh?”

 

“I-Iruma, you shouldn’t talk about Hoshi that way...” Usami murmurs softly, but anybody could tell she was afraid of the tennis player- despite being almost the same size as him. Iruma’s lips twisted into a smirk.

 

“You knew I was talking about him though...”

 

Usami shivered suddenly, before bowing her head in disgrace. “I-I...oh, no, to make that a-assumption...I’m a failure as a teacher!” She bawled.

 

“Yeah, you got that right...”

 

“Hawawa...”

 

“Okay- okay, look, answer the question! Since Hoshi is legally an adult,” If memory and snooping served her correctly, he turned eighteen a few months ago, “then that means he can ‘legally’ have booze right?”

 

“I....yes, I suppose that’s true.”

 

“So you have some here!?” The sparkle in Iruma’s adoring eyes suggested trouble and only trouble. Usami paused, before reluctantly admitting, “Y-Yes...we do. Mainly for special celebrations but should those of legal age want some then it’s there for them too...”

 

“Yes!” Iruma’s arms shot up in the air, but victory wasn’t quite hers yet. Not until she convinced Hoshi to go along with her...little plan. It was blatantly clear, even to Usami, what Iruma was planning but there wasn’t too much she could do at that moment. Hopefully Hoshi was sensible enough to refuse a part in Iruma’s scheme...

 

* * *

 

“You want me to what?”

 

If he had eyebrows, then his look of utter confusion would be increased tenfold. Iruma’s arms fell in a slump as she let out yet another long, drawn out huff- jeez, people were so dumb sometimes!!

 

“Booze, you shrimp-dicked punk!”

 

Hoshi’s eyes narrowed as he glared up at her. “You wanna run that one by me again?” Fortunately for Iruma, lack of inebriating substance and total and utter exasperation gave her a bit more confidence, so she didn’t recoil.

 

“Don’t try to deny it! Everyone knows you’ve got a dick the size of Usami’s backbone.”

 

Figuratively, of course.

 

Hoshi still didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

 

“I’m thinkin’ you might wanna change your game plan if you’re askin’ me for favours. Insulting me isn’t wise.” He said, lowly. Iruma merely scoffed in response.

 

“Okay, okay, fair fuckin’ play, here’s the deal. You score some booze from the freaky rabbit and we go halfsies on it, yeah?”

 

Briefly contemplating her offer, he eyed her with suspicion. “What’s in it for me?”

 

“Uh- you get to do something super nice and super helpful for a super sexy and amazing lady like me!” She said with a grand flourish. Hoshi merely stared.

 

“I could describe you in many, many words but ‘lady’ isn’t one of them.”

 

“Ugh- fine, look, what do you want in return then?” She demanded with stomp of her heel. How many people was she going to have to negotiate with just to get some booze! Hell, she’d probably have a better shot asking Ouma to get some for her.

 

“I don’t want anything.” That was true- there was nothing he really wanted. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted something. Days like that were long gone, he supposed.

 

“Then why’re you giving me a fuckin’ run-around then?”

 

He sighed, pulling the brim of his hat downwards. She had a point- there was no reason to barter with her if there was nothing he wanted.

 

“Wait. Wait....”

 

“Hn...?”

 

Iruma’s face was oddly blank, but it was easy to tell an idea was coming to her. Hoshi patiently waited as her face slowly contorted into something more satisfied.

 

“Cigarettes.”

 

“...what?”

 

She bolted back up to her full height, looking down on Hoshi with an air of arrogance. “Cigarettes. You want ‘em?”

 

His previously tense state slowly dissolved as he relaxed. “What makes you think I want ‘em?” He questioned, only to earn what Iruma would call her hundredth eye-roll today. “You’re always chewing that shitty candy stick, right? Are you telling me that’s not a substitute for something a little more...illegal?” A wolfish grin spread across Iruma’s features as she pointed at him in an accusatory manner. “Admit it!”

 

Hoshi glared up at her for a good two minutes before sighing in reluctance. “I guess you pick up some bad habits in prison.” Was all he said, but it was more than enough for Iruma.

 

“Knew it! But how’d you even get cigarettes in a prison anyway?”

 

“They’re not banned, but they are expensive.”

 

Iruma grinned. “You ever do any dirty things for cigarettes?” She wasn’t gonna pass up the opportunity to learn some juicy stuff about the little jailbird. “I mean, I heard prison life is pretty rough on your asshole.” She let out a screech of a laugh.

 

“You think it’s funny?”

 

The laugh subsided. “A little, yeah. I mean- at your height-“

 

“At my height, I see things I really don’t want to see. Try being in a crowded shower room with ten other convicts, all six foot six and built like brick shit-houses, and all you can see are dicks. Fun for you maybe, but not for me.”

 

His short rant left Iruma momentarily breathless, until another screech of a laugh escaped her lips. “They ever give you the old-“ She cut herself off with a rather forceful pelvic thrust, to which Hoshi watched with a sour expression.

 

“Do you want the booze or not?”

 

“Oh my god, you didn’t!!”

 

“You’re right- I didn’t, now do you wanna keep wastin’ my time?” Apparently the discussion of his prison life wasn’t his favourite thing in the world as he glared up at the inventor. Iruma merely shrugged.

 

“Sure. You want the cigarettes?”

 

“I’d be impressed if you managed to find some.” Was his only retort. Iruma, being Iruma, took that as a challenge.

 

* * *

 

“So you thought I was your best bet to procure tobacco?”

 

Shinguji was both amused and perplexed by Iruma’s request of cigarettes.

 

“Well I thought you might have some. I dunno, ain’t tobacco like a historical thing or something?” Iruma shrugged, now becoming impatient. Shinguji raised an eyebrow. “Well there is a history regarding tobacco used in religious ceremonies and--“

 

“Yeah, yeah, that, so do you have any?”

 

“Why would I have any?”

 

Iruma let out an exasperated grunt. “So you don’t. Shit.” Great, this put a spanner in the works- how was she gonna get them now? If she asked Usami she’d no doubt get a lecture on the dangers of smoking and there was no way that was happening.

 

“Well...I might be able to find a way to get some.”

 

A surprising offer from the anthropologist filled Iruma’s heart with hope. “How- how!?” She demanded, half-tempted to grab the guy by the shoulders and shake him. Her strange lust for tobacco was...oddly concerning.

 

“It will involve visiting Gokuhara.”

 

“Huh? Why that guy? I mean- he’s probably packing but-“

 

“Unless I’m mistaken, there a few species of bugs that feed from tobacco plants so if luck is in our favour, Gokuhara may have some tobacco plants in his research lab.” Shinguji explained. Iruma pauses, chewing the inside of her cheek in thought.

 

“So we’re makin’ these things from scratch then?”

 

“It’s the only thing I can think of. That’s plausible, anyway.” Shinguji replied, before heading towards the door. Iruma followed him with a sigh.

 

“So how long is it gonna make these things, anyway?”

 

“Well to make the tobacco found in cigarettes- which is what I assume you’re after- the plants must be cured. There are many ways to do this but they’re all very time-consuming.”

 

“How long are we talking?”

 

“Several weeks? And that’s fairly dependant on the method.”

 

Iruma growled as they turned a corner, Gokuhara’s research lab now in their line of sight. “Are you serious? Shit.”

 

“I didn’t take you for the smoker type.” Shinguji commented, knocking on the research labs door. Iruma shrugged. “Ain’t for me.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Look, I’ll tell you later, okay?”

 

“Ah! Iruma and Shinguji! Hello!” Gokuhara greeted loudly. “Are you here about bugs?” Very odd assumption, but that was to be expected from the entomologist.

 

“I’m afraid not.” Shinguji replied, evenly, “Though we are here to inquire about the plants in your research lab.” Gokuhara looked momentarily surprised. “Plants? Alright! Come in!”

 

Iruma wasn’t a big bug fan, and neither was Shinguji in all honesty, so stepping into Gokuhara’s jungle of a research lab was a little off-putting. Nonetheless, nothing was gonna get in the way of Iruma and booze. She’d been working her ass off for weeks- she just wanted one goddamn night to get totally wasted and have a good time. Stupid bunny.

 

“Gonta has a lot of plants in here for all kinds of bugs! They’ve all been hatching!”

 

Iruma shivered. Nasty.

 

“I see. Gokuhara, you wouldn’t happen to have any tobacco plants, would you?” Shinguji was oddly straight to the point about it. Gokuhara paused.

 

“I think so! There are lots of bugs that feed from the tobacco plant! Like the _heliothis virescens_!” The foreign name rolled from his tongue, and in Iruma’s case, went in one ear and came out the other. She shrugged.

 

“That’s fascinating.” Shinguji replied, plainly.

 

“Hmm....it’s over here! Why do you want a tobacco plant, anyway?” Gokuhara tilted his head in confusion.

 

“I’m makin’ a machine that works off tobacco.”

 

The lie escaped Iruma’s lips faster than she expected and Shinguji glanced back at her with an expression that screamed ‘what’.

 

“Wow! Hmmm, but I need my plants for my bugs.”

 

“That’s very true. What do you think, Iruma?” Shinguji turned back to face Iruma properly, but she trembled on the spot in response. “Uhh....we could plant it outside and make lots of plants...?” That was how plants worked, right?

 

Luckily, Gokuhara clearly wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, as he nodded eagerly. “Then we’d have lots of plants! That sounds like a good idea! Gonta will ask Usami about the best way to replant them!”

 

Oh, that- that wasn’t a great idea....

 

Iruma shot a panicked look at Shinguji, who merely shrugged. “I suppose you better get working on that machine.” Was his only comment. Iruma glowered at him, as they said they goodbyes and rushed from the insect lab.

 

“So fill me in, why are you so eager to procure tobacco?”

 

Iruma sighed, as if she were about to spill her entire backstory to him.

 

“I wanted booze, okay, but Usami’s got a stick up her ass about the illegality of giving alcohol to minors but the only person in our group who can drink alcohol is Hoshi, right? So I asked him and we ended up agreeing if I got cigarettes for him, he’d go halves with me on the booze.”

 

“I see. And now you’re asking me to help you make tobacco.”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“So what do I get out of this?”

 

“H-huh....?”

 

Shinguji visibly smiled from behind his mask- his voice was sickeningly sweet. “I’m aiding you in your little quest for tobacco but I can’t find a good reason to help you any further.”

 

“Ugh, jesus fucking christ on a bike- whaddya want?”

 

Shinguji seemed to momentarily relish being in such a position, but he remained passive. Hmm...

 

“And no creepy shit, okay? No way.”

 

Well, damn.

 

“Alright. Split your alcohol share with me and I’ll continue to offer my assistance.”

 

“Are you fucking serious? You want booze too? Goddamnit, fine, okay? Look, we’ll go find the gremlin and tell him we’re on track to makin’ cigarettes and tell him the deal with you and we’ll be good.” Iruma seemed angrily excited about now having a clear plan of what was happening. Shinguji bowed his head appreciatively. “That sounds good.”

 

* * *

 

Hoshi didn’t seem entirely pleased by the change of situation, but he shrugged it off. “Just don’t get the entire group involved in this- there’s only so much lecturing I can take from a rabbit.”

 

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t be on a fucking quest if she just let me have some. Jeez. And why do you want booze, anyway?” Iruma turned to Shinguji with a scowl. Shinguji shrugged, placidly. “I enjoy the taste. Why do you want it?”

 

“Because I wanna get fuckin’ wasted.”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

Iruma rolled her eyes. “So...yeah. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get your nicotine fix!” She gently poked the side of Hoshi’s head, causing him to glare up at her. The glare lasted all of two seconds before he exhaled slowly.

 

“Honestly, forget it. You can still have the booze- you obviously want it badly if you went all the way to suggesting to Gokuhara to plant an actual tobacco farm.” The thought actually amused him- especially since Gokuhara clearly hadn’t a clue what Iruma’s real scheme was.

 

Iruma slumped over, but she seemed happy. “So I did all that work for nothing? Fuck it, it doesn’t matter, I’m gonna get blitzed tonight.” She pumped a fist in the air.

 

“How did you get it?” Shinguji questioned with a tilt of the head.

 

“Looked around the kitchen first. Then I asked Usami. She probably knew what I was planning from the off but she gave it to me anyway. She looked too scared to say no.” He gave an empty laugh at the memory.

 

“So...whaddya get, then?”

 

“Just a couple’a six-packs. Nothing fancy.” He shrugged, but Iruma seemed perfectly fine with it.

 

“Fuckin’ sweet! So...tonight? After dinner!”

 

“For what?”

 

“Drinking, dipshit! We’re totally doing this in your room. That way if we get busted, it’s your fault.” Hoshi’s eyes narrowed in Iruma’s direction.

 

“Fine.”


	2. Covering all Bases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gratuitous talk of death and...other things.

 

The wait through dinner was absolutely agonising for Iruma. She scarfed down her food with unrivalled speed, only to end up glaring at Hoshi and Shinguji who were clearly taking their time.

 

Hoshi rolled his eyes whenever Iruma glanced at him.

 

But, after waiting for so long, or what felt so long, Toujou began to clear up the plates with the help of Akamatsu and Chabashira, leaving Iruma to slip off and head to Hoshi’s room. She stretched, feeling the stiffened joints in her arms pop. Man, she was gonna have a good night tonight!

 

To her surprise, despite taking his time and taking his own plate to the kitchen, Hoshi had arrived before her. She shot him a quizzical look, to which he shrugged with a half-smile. Weird little gremlin. How’d he do that?

 

“You just gonna stare or are you gonna come?”

 

“Never thought you’d ask me that.” Iruma grinned. Hoshi merely sighed in utter disappointment before quietly muttering, “If it were up to me I wouldn’t even have time to ask.”

 

Iruma was temporarily awestruck by his answer, before beaming widely. Looked like the gremlin had a sense of humour after all! Good- she wasn’t about to spend a night listening to his self-deprecating ass. Seriously, what a downer.

 

She was just about to question where Shinguji had gotten, before spotting him just a few feet away.

 

“You took your time.” She commented, plainly. Shinguji chuckled softly, but said nothing, merely following behind her as they filed into Hoshi’s room.

 

It wasn’t too much different from their own rooms, but everything seemed a little...shorter. Well, that was to be expected, she guessed.

 

Iruma took a seat on the floor against the bed, as Hoshi hauled out two six-packs from underneath it, dropping them on the floor with a loud thud.

 

“Well...? Take one.” He sat down on the floor opposite Miu and began tearing a can from the plastic packaging and passing one to Shinguji, who had sat down beside him. The sounds of the cracking open of cans filled the room, followed by a quiet hiss as all three took a gulp.

 

“Mm. Not bad.” Hoshi commented, inspecting the label with mild interest, before taking another swig.

 

“You ever drank before?” Iruma asked, taking another large gulp, feeling the can grow lighter in her hands. Hoshi shrugged. “Guess so.”

 

“Another bad prison habit?”

 

“Wouldn’t say that.”

 

“I’m fairly sure alcohol is banned in prisons. I’ve heard stories of people making their own.” Shinguji cradled the can in his hands. Iruma raised an eyebrow. “How’s that work?”

 

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Hoshi replied, flatly, taking another sip of his drink.

 

“Ehh? But we could totally make our own though! Without getting lecturing from the bunny.” Iruma grinned. “I think she’d notice. Either way, I don’t need shit like that.” Hoshi raised his drink in indication, sprouting a tiny smile.

 

“Lucky fucker. Anyway, what’s it like bein’ eighteen anyway?”

 

“You’re asking three months too late.”

 

Iruma rolled her eyes. “Ai’ght, yeah, whatever- but c’mon! What’s it like?”

 

Hoshi’s eyes went a little glassy for a moment. “Not much different.” He answered, quietly, before smiling ruefully. “Technically I had nothing to look forward to for my birthday but death.”

 

“Ah, that’s right- you were on death row, no?”

 

Hoshi grunted an affirmative. Iruma’s rather sunny mood had been dampened slightly.

 

“....what’s that like?”

 

Hoshi looked up. “What’s what like?”

 

She remained focused on her nearly empty can, now hesitant on whether or not that say it.

 

“What’s being on death row like?”

 

...

 

“There’s really not much to say...for the first couple of weeks I was there, I was living with the other inmates because I hadn’t been given that sentence yet. Once the trial was over, they dragged me off to a solitary cell.” He explained.

 

“So you just waited there until they killed you?”

 

“You make it sound like I’m already dead.” Hoshi remarked, dryly. “But yeah...pretty much.”

 

An odd silence settled over the room.

 

“I can’t imagine what it would be like to sit there knowing you were going to die.” Iruma murmured, looking down at the dregs of her drink. “I can’t imagine it’s too different from anybody else. We all die sooner or later.” Shinguji offered.

 

“No, no- like...it’s like when doctor’s tell you you have like three months to live. It’s not knowing that you’re going to die- it’s knowing _when_ you’re going to die.” Iruma attempted to explain, making wild gestures with her hands. She looked...oddly pained.

 

“Did they have a set date in mind?” Shinguji, being the person to ignore all social boundaries, asked. Hoshi shrugged lamely.

 

“I knew it was after I turned eighteen and I wasn’t sticking around to have appeals or any of that shit, so I figure it would be about under six months time.”

 

“H-How...do they...y’know...”

 

“Hanging.”

 

Iruma shuddered visibly. “That’s...that’s nasty. Can you imagine?” Her hand jumped to her throat to rub it softly, as if vividly experiencing it herself.

 

“Imagine it? I was gonna experience it.” Hoshi’s expression was grim as he spoke. Iruma’s eyes darted away guiltily. “Yeah...sorry...”

 

...

 

“Nah, don’t be. I get it. It’s morbid curiosity- right?” He waved his hand dismissively.

 

“Even so...the feeling that Iruma describes is truly...well, indescribable.” Shinguji muttered thoughtfully, as Iruma grabbed another can from the pack.

 

“Yeah. Can’t say it was a lot of fun.”

 

“Isn’t there like- rules for the death penalty though? Like, other than murder.” Iruma cracked open her second can and quickly swigged it before it could overflow. “It’s all dependent on factors like the motive, the manner in which the murders occurred and the degree of remorse shown by the defendant.” Shinguji explained, as Iruma did her best to process the information.

 

“So, did you regret it?”

 

Hoshi sighed. “Depends when, really. At the time, no way.” He, too, took a second can from the pack and cracked it open. “I vaguely remembering hearing about the mafia killing your family and wife and shit.”

 

“She wasn’t my wife.”

 

“Girl, then, whatever. Is that true?”

 

“Pretty much.” He slowly traced the rim of the can with a stubby finger. “I wasn’t really scared to die. Not at the time.”

 

“That...does that mean you were at one point?”

 

Hoshi eyed Iruma carefully, almost scowling. “Nobody’s completely fine with dying. Not even me.”

 

“Yet you act in such a way that suggests you aren’t scared of a thing in the world.” Shinguji murmured. “Why is that?”

 

“Crying about my mistakes and begging for sympathy doesn’t do jack shit. I’m going to die. There’s nothing about it...” The tennis player trailed off a little towards the end, frowning slightly.

 

“Is it any better to drift around acting like you’re the worst person in the world? Seriously, looking for sympathy is better than watching you put yourself down again and again and again and again and--“

 

“I get it.” He cut Iruma off sharply.

 

“Just sayin’. Like...” She faltered for a moment. “Don’t- like, don’t...you don’t gotta act like tough shit all the time, alright? I mean...fuck, everybody’s waiting for you to crack sooner or later.”

 

Hoshi watched her with a look that could only be described as mild surprise. “What...does that mean?”

 

“It means, ever since we got here and knew that you were on death row and shit, we all expected you to break down one day. Cause like you said, nobody’s completely okay with dying and like...you fuckin’ keep away from all of us and shit and like...”

 

She stopped with a groan. She wasn’t all too sure how to continue but her little rant was enough to take Hoshi by surprise.

 

“What I think she might be trying to say it- we’re all here for some reason or another. You seem to be here for a second chance, but the way you act suggests you’d rather let your life slip down the drain. You act like an empty shell of who you used to be but-“ Shinguji paused.

 

“I’m not one for sappy cliches, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”

 

“As fucking if!” He suddenly spat, crushing the half-full can in his hand. “You think you’re the first one to try and talk that shit to me? You think I don’t have Akamatsu or Momota or that dumbass rabbit on my heels babytalking me and telling me it’s gonna be fine?”

 

“You know what I had before this shit? I had a family. I had a girl. I had a fucking life. I even had some kind of promising future until I got dragged into that fucking mafia shitstorm. Now what do I have? No family, no partners and no way to go back to my element without remembering it all over again.” He slammed the crushed can on the floor with force, feeling the alcohol dribble over his fingers.

 

“So fuck it. Sometimes I wish I’d been fucking executed.”

 

...

 

The previously odd silence was now full of nothing but dread. Iruma gently placed her empty can on the floor but made no move to take another.

 

“You say...that nobody is okay with dying.” Shinguji reiterated quietly. “Are you?”

 

“How should I know? There’s nothing left for me here. It’s like being sick- you’re fine with the concept of it but when it happens it’s shitty.”

 

“I had a friend who could barf on command.” Iruma muttered.

 

“Fascinating.” Was Hoshi’s only reply.

 

“Do people ever get sick in prisons? I mean...it’s not like they’re outside, right?” Iruma finally plucked the courage to grab another can. “I expect it’s possible for prison guards to pass germs through from the outside.” Shinguji replied, thoughtfully.

 

“You ever blow chunks in the cage?”

 

“Mm...couple’a times. Wasn’t ‘cause I was sick. I mean...”

 

He paused.

 

“Do you ever lie awake at night and then sometimes, the fact that you’re going to die hits you like a fucking brick? That everything will just be nothing and it’ll stay that way forever? That’s the feeling I got the first time it truly hit me that I was gonna die.”

 

“That’s the fucking worst.”

 

“Yeah, now multiply that by ten.”

 

“All of a sudden, food poisoning doesn’t seem that bad.”

 

Iruma sunk down against the bed, balancing her can on her stomach. “So when you realised, you threw up?”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“That’s nasty. And I thought you said you wanted to die?”

 

Hoshi pulled the brim of his hat a little further down. “Didn’t say it like that...it’s just...it’s complicated. Not to be a dick but I can’t imagine you’d understand.”

 

Iruma’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t think? Then you’re a dick.”

 

“That’s a rather offputting thought.” Shinguji commented, quietly. Iruma tilted her head, frowning. “What’s that mean?”

 

“That if somebody as crude and demented as you felt suicidal, then it must feel hopeless for somebody more prone to depressive moods to ever feel like they could be happy.”

 

“That’s...depressing as shit.” Iruma muttered, thickly.

 

“You’re tellin’ me. What do you have to feel suicidal about?”

 

Iruma tilted her head slightly to eye him.

 

“Honestly not trying to be a dick. I spilled my guts, now it’s your turn.”

 

Iruma’s frown turned into an odd smile. “I don’t think you have, but ai’ght. I mean, I got my demons man and in they’re in the shape of every single fuckin’ thing I make so if you-“ She jabbed a finger in Hoshi’s direction, “-think you can’t play tennis cause what you did, then you’re fuckin’ wrong.”

 

“That right? Go on. I’ll bite.”

 

Iruma grinned, but this was far less serious. It was almost as if she was daring him to try and prove her wrong.

 

“Alright. Picture me. Sixth Grade. Child genius and expert engineer. School science fair, right? I made a machine that does- fucking, something with batteries- I can’t remember. Meanwhile, my cousin is on the table next to me. Baking soda volcano.”

 

Shinguji and Hoshi merely watched with bemused expressions at the delivery of Iruma’s story.

 

“So, judges come around right? Judge her volcano first, get’s a good mark. It’s a fucking kid’s project, so of course. Anyway, next is my turn. I switch the thing on, right? Thing is, I’m still a kid. Still prone to few mistakes, right?”

 

“Why do I get the feeling I know where this is going...” Shinguji muttered.

 

“Because it’s going exactly where you think it’s going. I ain’t gonna spare the details, but the thing goes up, spits battery acid and flames everywhere. You can see the headline right? ‘CHILD DIES IN HORRIFIC SCIENCE PROJECT ACCIDENT’. You know who that kid was?”

 

“You?”

 

“Fuck off you shrimp-dicked, pussy.”

 

Iruma exhaled harshly, face red and hair clinging to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to yell but all that escaped was an odd whine. “I-I k-ki...fucking, fuck, fuck! Killed her! Me! I fucking-- shit...” She dropped her head down, clawing the pads of her fingers over her face, leaving a trail of blemishes.

 

Hoshi and Shinguji could only stare open-mouthed.

 

“I...won’t deny that was exactly my thought process....” Shinguji whispered. Somehow, hearing it in such a despairing voice from the inventor was borderline heartbreaking.

 

“Um....sorry.” Was all Hoshi could muster without sounding stupid. Iruma shook her head. “S’fine, s-s’fine, just...fuck...you think we don’t know how you feel sometimes? You ain’t special, you little shit-faced gremlin!” She whined, but her insult lacked bite.

 

“You think I feel ‘special’ about being sentenced to death? Or for killing people? There’s nothing fucking special about it. It’s fucked up.”

 

“Yeah, it’s fucked up! I spent fucking years after that being treated like shit for what I did. Y’know it’s like that fucking- ugh- quality over quantity, yeah? You killed a buncha people, while I killed one person who meant a whole lot to a whole lotta people.”

 

“Stop saying you killed her. It was an accident.”

 

“Caused by me! My fucking fault! But what the fuck else am I gonna do with my life other than invent shit? Not like anybody gives a shit.”

 

“At least you inventions can be used to do something good. What the fuck is tennis gonna do? Who the fuck is gonna remember you in the future as somebody who accidentally killed a relative? I get to be remembered as a mass fucking murderer.”

 

“Because you’re ready to just up and die!”

 

“Do I look like I have anything left to live for?”

 

“You wanna die, go fucking right ahead. Maybe nobody will give a shit about you.” Iruma spat with as much venom as she could muster.

 

“My my...you’re really at each others throats now.” Shinguji smiled placidly. “Can’t say I didn’t see this coming. It’s certainly incredible to watch...”

 

He didn’t flinch when Iruma turned to him. “Oh yeah? What the fuck are you hiding? You’re a creepy ass motherfucker- don’t tell us you haven’t done any weird shit.”

 

“I didn’t say I hadn’t.”

 

“Next thing he’ll be telling us he’s killed somebody as well.” Hoshi muttered, dryly.

 

Shinguji smirked. “As a matter of fact...ah, well, it’s certainly not something to brag about.”

 

“Fuckin’ hope not. C’mon, what’s your deal? What fucked you up?” Iruma sat back against the bed, wiping her red eyes with the back of her hand.

 

“I can’t say anything fucked me up.”

 

“You said you killed somebody.”

 

“Only for somebody else. And it was admittedly more than one person.” Shinguji shrugged, placing his now empty can on the floor with the others. “For my dear sister. She must be so lonely in the afterlife.”

 

“You got a dead sister?”

 

“Mm...” Shinguji hummed. “I say she’s dead. She comes back every now and again. To me.” He placed a hand over his heart.

 

“And you killed people for her?” Hoshi raised an nonexistent eyebrow. “Because you think she’ll be lonely?”

 

“Of course. There are plenty of incredible women out there who would make admirable friends for her. Don’t you think?”

 

“Uh, no. I mean, I probably wouldn’t anyway. And why just women- she a lesbian or something? Get her a guy--“

 

“No.”

 

Shinguji’s voice was low- dark. His eyes narrowed as he glared at Iruma. “There is no man out there good enough for her. Not when she has me, anyway....”

 

“Oh dude, are you fuckin’ into your sister?” Iruma’s eyes widened, while Shinguji’s expression remained unchanged. “Does it matter if I was?”

 

“Last time I checked, incest ain’t popular.”

 

“I don’t think popular is the right word to use...”

 

“Okay, but you’re seriously telling me you killed people to be friends with your sister? Honestly, like, right now, I feel a little less messed up, okay?” Iruma raised her hands. “Because that’s fuckin’ nasty and if you come near me I will fucking kick your balls so hard up into your sternum you might as well be your sister, yeah?”

 

“Kukuku...that makes for an interesting image.” He mumbled, though his eyes looked oddly unfocused. In fact, he seemed to wobble in his spot a little.

 

“What makes you think your sister would want you to kill people anyway?” Hoshi offered, though not making an effort to reveal his true thoughts on the matter. “You think your sister wants you killin’ people?”

 

An odd kind of noise escaped Shinguji’s lips, as he bowed his head slightly. “I...she’ll be happier...until I get there...” He trailed off with a series of odd noises.

 

“Why don’t you save yourself the trouble of killing and do yourself in? Women get to live, you get to get freaky with your sister, job done.” Iruma shrugged, cracking open her fourth beer.

 

To her surprise, Shinguji suddenly brought a hand to his head, as if nursing a headache. “I...can’t...not...” He seemed to trail as Iruma and Hoshi shared an almost concerned look.

 

He suddenly sat back up, but he looked different. His eyes look different. His partially hidden expression look different.

 

“Do you ever hear a phrase, something along the lines of‘if you stare into the abyss long enough, it stares back?”

 

“M-Mhm...”

 

“Because I’ve done that, and it’s stared back at me. And that abyss can be absolutely anything.” Judging by the slant of his eyes, his expression must’ve been pained behind his mask. In fact, his speech seemed to differ all of a sudden.

 

“For me, that abyss was death and if you think death is just going to sleep and never waking up, then you’re wrong. It’s a fucking nightmare.” He exhaled shakily, turning to Hoshi. “You of all people should know how that feels.”

 

Hoshi gave a humourless chuckle.

 

“Who are you?”

 

Shinguji’s gaze bore into him in such a manner, even Ouma would recoil.

 

“Who do you think I am?”

 

“I think you’re a different Shinguji. As if...you’re the real one.”

 

Iruma looked between them quizzically. “The fuck do you mean the real one? I mean...I know he’s acting different all of a sudden...” She trailed, softly.

 

“Look I’m not- I’m not a psychologist or anything, but you clearly have issues. Like, and that’s not an insult- that’s just a statement. In fact, we probably all do, but you’re something else.”

 

“Shinguji...” Iruma mumbled. She bent over to get a little closer before hesitantly, gently, pulling down the fabric of his mask. He made no move to stop her, merely staring down at his empty can.

 

The appearance of lipstick was odd, but not entirely unsettling. In fact, it seemed to explain a lot of unanswered things.

 

“Who are you?”

 

He remained silent for a few moments. “How should I know? I can’t tell...” He replied, softly. “I’m just...me.”

 

“You know you’re wearing lipstick, right?”

 

He looked momentarily confused. “Yes, I know. It...that happens.”

 

“Do you remember putting it on?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Iruma contemplated this for a moment. “Did your sister wear lipstick?”

 

“From what I remember, yes.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Despite remaining unexpressive, the question took Shinguji by surprise. He seemed to think about it longer than would’ve been necessary.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Iruma made no moves to sit back in her spot, but remained silent. Clearly, every one of them had their issues and clearly, every one of them were up shit creek.

 

“If you’d been caught doing your weird killing shit, you’d both be in the exact same boat.” Iruma pointed out with a rueful smile.

 

“Isn’t lack of mental stability a defining factor in a death sentence?”

 

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Iruma plucked another can from the pack before forcing Shinguji’s fingers around it. “Besides, shit doesn’t matter now. We’ve all killed somebody. We’re all messed up one way or another.”

 

“Debatable.”

 

“Coming from you. You’re the worst out of all of us.”

 

Shinguji gave a half-hearted attempt at a laugh.

 

“Of all the people who I ever thought I’d admit this to, I never once thought it would be either of you two.”

 

“Not like we saw it coming either.” Hoshi remarked.

 

“Are you going to tell the others?”

 

Iruma eyed him. “Depends. You gonna carry on with your weird incestuous crusade?”

 

“Are you saying if I stop, you won’t tell them?”

 

“Not necessarily. Besides...I mean...I’m not condoning whatever the fuck you did- murder is still murder but...you sound like you’ve seen some shit and it feels like to me, if you hadn’t seen aforementioned shit then maybe you’d be okay.”

 

Shinguji processed this quietly, before shrugging. “I’m not about to relive my entire past but- if you want a small idea of what happened...”

 

He lifted up his jacket sleeve, to reveal a slew of deep scars and burn marks that were clearly, painfully, not self-inflicted.

 

“I don’t...really know what to say.” Hoshi admitted. “Can’t say my wrists are clean but that’s my fault.” Shinguji hummed, softly. “The entire concept of harming oneself is truly a fascinating one.”

 

“Can I ask you something? Shinguji?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“That shit on your arms, there. That’s...not just on your arms is it?”

 

“I’m afraid not.”

 

Iruma sat back a little on her legs. “So...when you said you stared into the abyss, and that abyss was death...did you- like...um...die?”

 

“Do I look dead to you?” But the true answer was very clear. Hoshi shot Iruma a glare, clearly telling her asking that was a shitty thing to do.

 

“So I guess lying awake at night thinking about how you wanna die, or being on death row and knowing you’re gonna die is nothing compared to actually dying.”

 

“Of course not, but...when I was there...staring into that abyss, I felt closer to her than I’d ever been before.” He was clearly referring to his sister, who had continued to go unnamed throughout the entire conversation.

 

“Is that...a good thing?”

 

“I’m not sure.” Shinguji replied, absent-mindedly tracing his finger over his lipstick-stained lips.

 

“Do you put on lipstick as you?”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Like...you right now. You’re acting way less creepy, right? But do you put on lipstick while you’re like that?”

 

Shinguji clearly looked perplexed, but seemed to understand. “I...suppose not. I suppose that’s what people would refer to as the ‘other’ me. Whatever that may mean.” It was clear he knew exactly what that meant but...Iruma wondered how it would be like to be like that.

 

“So like...okay, realistically, do you like...seriously have a split personality or something?”

 

“I’m led to believe that may be the case.” He took a sip from his can, which he had temporarily forgotten he had been holding.

 

“And the only way to tell them apart would be lipstick?”

 

“Well in that case--“

 

Iruma leant over, only to rub the palm of her hand straight across Shinguji’s mouth, effectively leaving a large lipstick smudge across his cheek. He merely sat there, shocked, when Iruma drew back.

 

“No lipstick for this Shinguji, right? Gonna call you natural Shinguji, okay?”

 

Iruma and Hoshi sat silently, waiting for Shinguji’s reaction, though as Shinguji looked between them...

 

Iruma let out a choked laugh, followed by Hoshi.

 

“Are you...laughing at me?”

 

“You should see your face- you look like you’ve been facefucked by a girl on the blood moon.” Iruma wheezed, pointing a shaking finger at the lipstick-stained anthropologist.

 

“Go check it out in the bathroom.” Hoshi gestured to the bathroom door a few feet away, clearly trying his best not to chuckle. After looking between the two with such a perplexed expression, Shinguji got up and headed to the bathroom.

 

When he returned, he looked both amused and unimpressed.

 

“I can see what you were saying about the blood moon.”

 

“Right? Well, you got the mask to cover it up, right? Nobody will notice.” Iruma waved a hand dismissively, still recovering from the laughter.

 

“Do you do that to people often?”

 

The thought of walking up to somebody to do nothing else but smudge their lipstick ended up sending Iruma into fits of giggles .

 

“Do you think we could do that to somebody? Shit, that would be hilarious.”

 

“Your hand was all sweaty, it’s really unpleasant.” Shinguji pointed out, as Iruma wiped her hands on her skirt. “Relish in it. You got the DNA of a genius on you.” She winked, before going to take a gulp of her drink.

 

“You could probably fuck the corpse of Albert Einstein and say the exact same thing.”

 

Iruma spat her drink out.

 

“I said on you, not in you!”

 

“Somehow having sex with the rotting corpse of Albert Einstein is the last thing on my bucket list. Especially if he’s going inside me.”

 

“I expected many thing to come from drinking with you two, yet discussing the abyss of death, split personalities defined by lipstick, murder and banging Albert Einstein were nothing I could’ve ever imagined.” Hoshi admitted, reaching for another can.

 

“Okay but like, would you rather stare into the abyss of death, have a split personality that wears lipstick, murder your cousin or bang a dead Albert Einstein?”

 

“You make it sound like he’s still alive.” Shinguji pointed out, before continuing with a smile, “And for the record, I’ve done almost all of those things. The only thing I didn’t do was murder my cousin.”

 

“You porked Albert Einstein?”

 

“Oh my fucking god.” Hoshi snorted into his drink. “Can I get that recorded somewhere, because there is no context for that, not even in this situation. And did you seriously say ‘porked’?”

 

“Yeah, from what we discussing, I’d be the one being- what’s the word.”

 

“The porkee?”

 

Iruma let out a cackle as Hoshi let his head fall into his hands, clearly laughing. “We’ve been talking for about an hour and we’ve pretty much covered all bases.”

 

“I doubt he’d be packing anything now- he’s been dead for over fifty years.”

 

“Can we please stop talking about fucking Albert Einstein?”

 

“No we fucking can not. We fuckin’ die like men.”

 

“Somehow, the topic of death seems incredibly inappropriate considering our previous conversation. Especially since it changed so suddenly. One minute we’re discussing the lowest points of our lives and two seconds later we’re discussing what it would be like to become a necrophile.”

 

Iruma threw her arms up. “Better than talking about that shit for too long! Look, we all spilled our guts, right? I killed my cousin, Hoshi was on death row and Shinguji fucked his sister. We're all freaks!”

 

“That’s incorrect, but okay.”

 

“Look the night’s still young, yeah? We still got another case to go through. Maybe later we can all break down and sob into each others shoulders but for now- fuck Albert Einstein.”

 

“Rather not, thanks.”

 

“You sure? He’d be going in _bone dry_!”

 

“Get the fuck out of my room right now.”

 

“Ahahah~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who can't write  
> this gal


	3. Are we friends now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of talking about dicks but what the fuck did you expect?

 

“Holy crap, we’re almost dry....”

 

Iruma looked mildly displeased as she tipped her empty can upside-down to emphasise her point. Three more cans remained and at this point, it was probably best if Iruma ceased her drinking.

 

“S’not hard to get more. I don’t think you should drink too much more, though.” Hoshi told her, flushed cheeks indicating his level of inebriation. Shinguji had drunk the least out of all of them, yet his unnerving mannerisms had almost disappeared completely.

 

“You ever been drunk? Like, completely shit-faced?” Iruma asked with a grin.

 

“Mm...never really had the chance to but I’ve been told I have been when I was a kid.” He replied with a half-smile. “Apparently, when we went to a relatives wedding years and years ago, I ended up stealing the dregs of other people’s drinks.”

 

“Oh my god, you did that? How old were you?”

 

“Old enough to not know any better. What about you?”

 

Iruma slouched back against the bed, propping her legs up in an unintentionally revealing manner. “One time, at a family party. Well...this was after the cousin incident so...”

 

“You seem okay talking about it now. You freaked out earlier.” Shinguji pointed out. Iruma gave a sort of silly scowl in his direction. “I only freak out when I really think about it. It’s like the death thing all over again- you can think about it briefly but when you really ponder it, it fucks you up. Anyway, can I finish?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Okay so family party- I’m like thirteen I think. The others still don’t really like me all that much, but they don’t care that I’m there. Anyway, I ended up stealing a bottle of sake and smuggling it up to my room.”

 

“You drank a whole bottle of sake? Not bad.”

 

“I assume that’s what I did- I can’t remember anything past taking it up to my room. I just remember waking up on the floor shirtless and the neck of the bottle was really sticky.”

 

“That’s nasty.” Hoshi commented, despite looking somewhat amused. “Was that the beginning of your weird sex obsession?”

 

“Fuck yes it was. I made so much cool stuff- the neck of a bottle doesn’t even compare!” Shinguji let out a low chuckle, while Hoshi just groaned lowly.

 

“That reminds me- I was watching a prison drama the other- don’t roll your eyes you gremlin- and like, these women all had like shit hidden under their mattresses right? And like, some of ‘em had bottles and hairbrushes and shit. Is that true?”

 

“I don’t know- funnily enough, I never went to a women’s prison.” Hoshi snarked back, causing Iruma to pout. “Not what I meant! Like- is there a guy equivalent?”

 

“I knew some guys had magazines under their mattresses but that’s all I really saw for myself.” He answered, plainly. Iruma shot forward to balance on her knees, excitement in her eyes. “What kind of magazines?”

 

“What kind do you think? The ones with the pages stuck-together and the stains.”

 

Iruma let out a cackle. “Ew, that’s nasty!! You ever have any?”

 

“Nah, not really.”

 

“Not even before you were in prison?”

 

“Before I was in prison, I had a working phone with wi-fi. I didn’t need a magazine.”

 

Iruma sat back against the bed, her laughter slowly dying down. “Man...if you were in prison- yeah I know you were, but right now- and you could only have one item to hide under your bed, what would it be?”

 

“That’s an interesting question...” Shinguji murmured, thoughtfully. “Probably some rope.”

 

“Rope?”

 

“Rope has many uses. Aside from it’s practical use- you could strangle somebody with it, tie somebody up and maybe even kill yourself. Though, not necessarily in that order.” He added, with a small smile.

 

“Do all of that at the same time.”

 

“Mm...it sounds kind of strange, but probably my tennis racket. That way I can still do what I do best and still defend myself if the mafia come after me.” Hoshi smiled, wryly, but his gaze on Iruma was soft. It seemed he’d taken Iruma’s earlier words constructively.

 

“What about you?”

 

“Screwdriver, straight up.”

 

“A screwdriver?”

 

“Hell yeah! Not only can I use it to make shit- but it’s a shiv and a dildo all in one! Why the fuck wouldn’t I want one?” Iruma beamed, clearly proud of her answer. “That...that’s actually pretty clever.” Hoshi admitted.

 

“I see it doesn’t take much to make you happy.” Shinguji replied. Iruma gave him a thumbs up. “Ain’t a high maintenance girl!”

 

“Coulda fooled me.”

 

“Shut it, shrimp-dick!”

 

“Can you stop calling me that? It’s not only getting old fast but it’s completely incorrect.” Hoshi pointed out with a mildly displeased expression, though Iruma’s eyes seemed to light up.

 

“How big? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

 

“Uh, no.” He shot back immediately, though Iruma seemed entirely unperturbed.

 

“S’fine- don’t need you to tell me. I know exactly what kind of dicks guys have just by looking at them!” She declared.

 

“Well...yes, looking at another man’s genitals will give you an idea of what it looks like.” Shinguji remarked, with raised eyebrows. Iruma scowled. “Not what I meant! I mean, just looking at their body and shit! I just know!”

 

“That right?”

 

“You want me to take a guess? Alright- who first?”

 

Shinguji and Hoshi shared a glance, before shrugging.

 

“Alright, star-boy first.”

 

“Star...boy?”

 

“Yeah...hmmmm....” She bent over to look him dead in the eye and while Hoshi wasn’t adverse to eye-contact, it was a little unnerving.

 

“You’re not small but you’re not big. Kinda-“ She spread her hands apart to indicate thickness, “-and I bet you have one hell of a curve too! All in all- not bad, I’d say!” She sat back with a satisfied expression while Hoshi merely stared, open-mouthed.

 

“What...?”

 

“Was she right?”

 

“I'm not gonna say.”

 

Iruma cackled, before turning to Shinguji. “And you. Bigger than he is- but thinner and no curve.”

 

“.......I see what you mean.”

 

“See? I told you I knew!” Iruma looked incredibly pleased with herself. “I just know! I mean...I’m pretty acquainted with guys of all sizes, so-“

 

“Yeah but I’d bet money on the fact you’re a virgin.”

 

“Whaddya say you shr-....short-thick-curved-dicked gremlin?”

 

“What. The fuck. Was that?”

 

“It sounded like a poem.” Shinguji added. “You could go into erotic poetry.”

 

“Fuck that- I’d rather make sex machines for porno companies. Which....I kinda have done in the past.” Iruma snickered.

 

“Not even remotely surprised.”

 

“Oh- hell- you might’ve even seen one of my inventions in a porno! If you’re an avid watcher of filth!” She winked.

 

“Somehow I’d rather go down in history than a mass-murder than somebody who invented sex machines.”

 

“What kind of inventions did you make? I’m curious.” Shinguji questioned with an odd glint in his eye. Iruma seemed more than happy to boast about it.

 

“Well--“

 

Cue a length spiel from Iruma which left Shinguji smiling like a lunatic and Hoshi with his head in his hands.

 

“I mean- have you see the video ‘Mechanigirls?”

 

“Why- were you in that one?”

 

“Fuck off, star-boy! I’m way too good to be in a cheap porno!”

 

“I feel like I may have seen that video. If that’s the case- then she isn’t in that video.”

 

“I’m not in any porno you perverts!!”

 

“Coming from the woman who makes sex machines.”

 

Iruma sat back with a huff. “I got good feedback for those things. And they could fuck you while you slept.” She seemed very okay with the idea of doing even that while she slept.

 

“Isn’t somnophilia borderline non-consensual sex?”

 

“Not if you consent in writing. Plus, where’s the fun in that? You ain’t gonna feel anything.”

 

“I’d rather go back to talking about fucking Albert Einstein.” Hoshi sighed.

 

“That reminds me...” Iruma muttered, “...you sure you didn’t do anything gross in prison?”

 

“The grossest thing I did was puke and that’s it.” He replied, flatly.

 

“You said you did it more than once, though. Did someone assault your little gag reflex?” Iruma giggled.

 

“No- a guy bent over in the shower.”

 

“Ew! Nasty!”

 

“You’re tellin’ me- I could see what he had for breakfast.”

 

Iruma let out a hyena-like screech of a laugh as Shinguji merely chuckled. “That’s a disturbing thought. And you were sick because of that?”

 

“Pretty much. And not because somebody assaulted my gag-reflex.” He glared over at Iruma, who shrugged. “A’ight- so you can suck dick without gagging- good for you.”

 

“Not what I fucking meant.”

 

“Course it wasn’t. Doesn’t really matter anyway, does it? It’s not like you’re going back there.” Iruma murmured, before the room delved into an awkward silence.

 

“You...aren’t going back there are you?”

 

Hoshi pondered this question for a few minutes.

 

“If I am- will you come to my execution?” His lips were curled up into a smile but his eyes showed nothing but sorrow. Iruma felt something inside her drop- maybe it was just the alcohol.

 

“Dunno why you’d want my sorry ass there.” It was fairly odd for Iruma to say something even remotely negative about herself, but the negativity of the situation seemed to call for it. “Ain’t there anybody else who’ll go?”

 

“Does it look like I have anybody left?”

 

“What makes you so sure you’re going back to prison? Wasn’t this meant to be your second chance?” Shinguji questioned, only for Hoshi to sigh, long and drawn out.

 

“I suppose it was, but what am I supposed to do. Even if I get back into tennis- people aren’t gonna want to play against me anyway. Not to mention, even if this place does ‘reform’ me, who’s to say they’re gonna let me off. I could spend months working my ass off to prove I’m remorseful of my actions, only for them to sentence me again. I can’t imagine anything worse than that.”

 

They all looked down at their empty cans.

 

“Are you remorseful of your actions?”

 

“I’d say no but...hell, I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder what would happen to me if I didn’t go through with it.”

 

“Maybe you wouldn’t be here.” Iruma suggested. “That would suck. Who else am I gonna mooch booze off, huh?” She offered a half-smile. “I am jokin’ though...I mean...it would suck if you weren’t here anyway.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘what does that mean?’ It means- if you weren’t around, it would suck. You’re...” She paused. “You’re not a bad guy. You did bad things but you ain’t a bad guy. Even if some of them are scared of ya, they still kinda like you.”

 

“That’s bullshit.” He smiled. “I’ve offered nothing to warrant them liking me.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that’s true.” Shinguji murmured. “Either way- if you were to go back to prison and face execution...”

 

“...I’d say most of us would come and see you off.”

 

It was a morbid thought, but the real gesture behind it was surprising- Hoshi was visibly taken aback. “What? Why?”

 

“Well...though we may not be close friends with one another- we’re all a collective group of friends. If any one of us were to suddenly disappear...even Ouma...” He almost forced the name from his mouth, “...we’d still be upset. And I’m 90% sure that you are far more popular than Ouma.”

 

“What he’s tryna say is, as dumb as it sounds, we’re your friends, yeah? So if you really, really had to die, we’d be there for you. And we’d probably hold a bomb-ass funeral for you as well, yeah?” Iruma gave him a thumbs up, though her expression looked weak.

 

“But...why?” Was all he could respond with. He couldn’t comprehend why they would do that. He’d killed people.

 

“Does there need to be a fuckin’ reason? Or would you rather we didn’t, huh?”

 

“It’d just be better if you forgot about me. Trust me.” He replied, quietly.

 

“Really? And why the fuck is that?”

 

“There’s no need for any of you to stick around feeling sorry for me. I’m not worth i--“

 

_*smack*_

 

“...!”

 

Iruma exhaled, shakily, withdrawing her open palm. Hoshi’s hand instinctively drew up to the red mark on his left cheek, eyes wide and mouth open. Shinguji watched the entire thing with raised eyebrows, but his mouth was twisted into a line.

 

“You,” Iruma began, “are a fucking idiot! Just because you’re so absorbed into your own self-hatred doesn’t mean we all feel the same goddamn way. Stop being such a pussy about it!”

 

Hoshi remained silent for several minutes, still reeling from the smack, before answering.

 

“I don’t see the point in getting close to any of you when I’m only going to die when I get out. What’s the point in causing that much trouble for people.” He replied, but his voice was low and shaky.

 

“So you’re just not going to bother finding anybody else? That’s like saying what’s the point in making friends when they’ll die one day? Or what’s the point in living if I’m just gonna die?”

 

“It doesn’t matter how short time may be.” Shinguji added, softly. “I suppose that’s what gives it more value. And can you imagine what it would be like, as you’re about to die, and you suddenly regret not doing such things? A painfully, bittersweet moment.” He smiled, wryly.

 

“Whatever...even if I do live- who’s to say associates of the mafia won’t come for anybody else who gets close to me. You’d just be putting yourselves at risk.”

 

“Are you a dipshit? Do you think they’ll be able to kill somebody like me? Or Gokuhara? Or Tenko? Fuck, Ouma’s got a whole fuckin’ organisation on his side!” Iruma argued.

 

“I see literally no reason for any of them to do a thing for me. Especially not Chabashira or Ouma.” Hoshi countered, quietly. “Just ‘cause you feel like you have to be my friend doesn’t mean the others do. Just stop trying. You’ll probably regret it anyway.”

 

“No- you’re just scared of getting close to anybody because you think we’re all gonna die!”

 

“And that’s unreasonable how?!”

 

“Do you really think- after wiping out literally an entire fuckin’ mafia organisation- that anybody else is gonna come for you? They’re probably shit-scared of you! And we’re not entirely useless either- we’re Ultimates! Way to fuckin’ sell us all short, dickhead!”

 

“I wasn’t sellin’ you short. I’m just tellin’ you, trying to get close to me is nothing but a burden.”

 

“And I’m tellin’ you, you’re fuckin’ wrong!” Iruma suddenly shot forward, causing Hoshi to flinch ever so slightly, feeling the sting on his left cheek from earlier, but she didn’t deliver another blow. Instead, she just grabbed his shoulders with an iron grip.

 

“When I met you- I thought you were an edgy loner but talking to you now- you sound even more pathetic than before! You’d really rather just accept death and spend the rest of your life avoiding other people? If that’s the case, then why the fuck are you here?! Stop wasting Usami and everyone else’s time with your pathetic self-deprecating bullshit and do something! Because even...e-even if you do end up dying- we’ll all remember you as the cool devil-horned midget. Not a mass-murderer.”

 

Being the longest of Iruma’s rants yet, it left both Hoshi and Shinguji visibly stunned. She drew back, inhaling sharply, slumping forward a little to give Hoshi a lame hug.

 

“Would you rather die with nobody left in your life? Or would you rather die knowing there are people here who give a shit about you.”

 

“I...”

 

...

 

The room remained silent for more than several minutes. Hoshi let his head rest against Iruma’s shoulder and made no attempt to pull away.

 

“Look, I...didn’t come here to make friends. I just wanted to work on my shit...” Iruma admitted softly. “And I wanted to forget all about what happened at the science fair, and as much as I thought you were a fuckin’ weirdo when we met- you’re not...bad. I like you and I don’t want you to die. Savour that, because I don’t say that to anybody.”

 

“I’m fuckin’ blessed.” Was Hoshi’s flat muffled reply.

 

“And you.” Iruma turned to Shinguji. “I thought you were a freak and lo and behold- you are a freak, but you have some demons man and I’m not about to blame you for that shit but you’re literally a serial killer and that’s messed up. You gotta sort yourself out but you clearly can’t do it alone so I’m offering my amazing assistance. You’re both lucky motherfuckers and you both fuckin’ owe me.”

 

Despite her almost harsh words, her voice trembled.

 

“Iruma...you don’t have many friends, do you?” Shinguji’s voice was soft. Iruma attemped a half-shrug but her trembling bottom lip suggested she was about to cry.

 

“You...you can call me Miu, okay?”


	4. Lucky

Shinguji’s lips stretched into a small smile.

 

“In that case...you may call me Korekiyo.”

 

Despite still looking teary, Iruma pulled a face. “That’s a mouthful- can I call you Kiyo instead?”

 

“I suppose so.” He accepted. Iruma turned to Hoshi, who, curiously enough, was still resting against Iruma’s shoulder. “What about you, star-boy?”

 

“Anything but shrimp-dick.”

 

“Ryoma it is. You’re part of the crew now.” Iruma wiped any signs of tears from her eyes as Shinguji questioned, “What crew?”

 

“My crew- duh!”

 

Hoshi drew back away from Iruma’s shoulder, eyes suspiciously red. Iruma ignored the wet patches on her shoulder. “What makes it yours? You the leader?”

 

“Fuck yeah, I am. Like I said before, you guys fuckin’ owe me.”

 

“While I appreciate the fact you’re set on helping somebody like me...” Shinguji began, “I can’t imagine there’s any way I’d make this up to you- at least by your standards. Contrary to your earlier statement, I’m inclined to believe you are rather high maintenance.”

 

“I’m high maintenance?! You kill people because you wanna bang your sister!”

 

“Uh, again, incorrect. Also, are you going to bring that up every time I say something remotely hypocritical?”

 

“Absolutely!”

 

“Alright then.”

 

Iruma sat back with a grin. “So, star-boy, you done cryin’?”

 

“I wasn’t cryin’...” He said, lowly, only for Iruma to scoff in response. “Dude, don’t act like that! Cryin’ makes you feel better, y’know? Everyone’s gotta cry.”

 

“I wasn’t. Crying.” He repeated. Iruma watched him carefully, maintaining full eye contact before a soft smile appeared on her face.

 

“Ryoma...” She said, gently, pulling him into a hug. Hoshi’s eyes widened at the change of attitude as he scrambled to get away. Despite her soft smile and kind words, she had a grip of iron.

 

Shinguji watched with an amused expression as Iruma tapped into her hidden maternal instincts. She held Hoshi close to her voluptuous chest, almost suffocating him. Despite being a convicted killer and a star athlete, apparently his size and stature was still a problem as he attempted to wriggle free.

 

Iruma continued to coo at him in a sickly sweet manner.

 

“S-Seriously, stop! Ah- fuck’s sake- Miu! Let me go!”

 

To his surprise, she did.

 

He adjusted his hat with a grumble, before turning back to look up at Iruma and--

 

_*sniff*_

 

“Uh...” He trailed, mouth open. “Are...you okay?”

 

Fat tears began to well in Iruma’s eyes, threatening to spill as she gripped the hem of her skirt.

 

“Miu...?” Shinguji leant over to inspect Iruma’s scrunched up face but the moment he spoke, the tears fell and she burst into sobs.

 

The two boys shared a glance- completely clueless about how to console the crying girl. Why was she crying to begin with?

 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Miu. I wasn’t tryna be a dick to you.” Hoshi apologised, looking somewhat downcast. To his surprise, Iruma shook her head rapidly, strands of blonde hair swaying from side to side.

 

“Y-You...called me Miu...”

 

“Uh...you said we could. Do you not want us to?” Shinguji expression was quizzical as he watched Iruma wipe a line of snot with the back of her hand.

 

“You guys are the first people to call me that....” She sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Parents and relatives aside, it was now very clear that the few friends Iruma may have had in middle school had never called her by name.

 

Both boys emitted a soft sigh of relief.

 

“Jeez, Mi’, you were freakin’ us out.” Hoshi sighed, reaching out to gently pat her head. Iruma sniffled, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes.

 

“S’just...never thought of it before, y’know, until now and I just kinda realised...well, that’s what I get for being so overwhelmingly amazing, huh! People are so used to calling me Iruma-sama!” She gave a very wide grin, but it looked a little pained.

 

“So...I suppose we’re both very lucky to be able to call Iruma-sama, Miu, aren’t we?” Shinguji commented, turning to Hoshi.

 

“Yup. Everyone’s gonna be super jealous of us.” He replied.

 

Miu burst into tears again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it was so short but it seemed appropriate. all hail Iruma-sama


	5. I think we might be okay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please ignore the inconsistency of kiyo's personality switch whatever the hell...i'm very tired...

 

“You done cryin’?”

 

Iruma wiped her eyes with a glare. “Are you?”

 

“I told you I wasn’t crying...” Hoshi frowned. Yeah, right.

 

“Sure, you weren’t. Either way....” He eyes drifted to the empty spot between them. “We’ve run out of booze.” The buzz she had going on was probably alright enough for her but if there was more, then hell, she’d drink it.

 

Shinguji’s eyes locked onto a clock on the wall.

 

“I can’t imagine we’ll have time. It’s 9:45 already.” He replied. Had the time really gone that fast?

 

“The night time announcement’s gonna come soon. Usami’s probably gonna cry at us if we’re not in bed then. Can you imagine if she- she- eheh- ahahah- if, if she like....got really angry? But like, like, if she got angry- she also got really buff as well?”

 

Iruma giggled drunkenly in her spot, letting her head rest against the bed. Her laughs were soon accompanied by the boys’, all no doubt thinking about the same ludicrous image.

 

“But she still keeps her baby voice....” Hoshi added, tapping his fingers against his empty can.

 

“And she’s still wearing the tutu and waving that magic stick around....” Shinguji suggested. Both suggestions did well to make Iruma cackle.

 

“Serious-seriously....her whole get-up is ridiculous....like...not teacher material. You could punt her like a goddamn bunny-shaped football across the entire stretch of this place....”

 

“I’d like to try that but...damn, she’s the same size as I am. D’you know how much that pisses me off?” Hoshi grumbled.

 

“It’s bad enough when she baby-talks us but when you’re seeing eye-to-eye with her it’s like she’s leaning down to get to your level.”

 

“But....she’s the reason I’m here....” Hoshi responded, softly. “She’s the reason I’m not rotting in a cell with nothing but death to look forward to. Annoying toy rabbit as she is, I guess I kinda owe her, huh....”

 

“Does...this mean you’re going to try to change?”

 

“What exactly are you expecting me to change?”

 

Iruma paused, very clearly inebriated, but she seemed alright enough to form a coherent response. “Like...you’re the tennis player, but you’ve abandoned tennis because it brings back bad memories right? Cause you killed people right? But, like I said, I’m the same. Does that give you the drive to try tennis again?

 

“I can’t imagine anybody’s gonna want me to play in a tournament anymore but....shit- you got really upset when you talked about your cousin. I feel like I’m not doing jack shit in comparison. Especially since I got this chance now....”

 

“I wonder how they expect you to....reform? Is that what you would call it?”

 

“I guess they thought it was a waste to just kill off somebody with a talent so when Usami....or....whoever the hell is behind Usami, asked ‘em to take me they said yes. I guess reform is probably the right word to use but as for what changes they wanna see, I don’t know. Like I said earlier- even if I try, I might still be utterly fucked.”

 

“But if you leave it, then you’re definitely utterly fucked.”

 

“I guess so...”

 

The room drifted into silence with ten minutes left until the nighttime announcement.It was promptly broken by Iruma.

 

“Oi....Ryoma....”

 

The use of his first name brought him mild surprise.

 

“Do you...want to live?”

 

“Huh...?”

 

“If the prison guys came up here right now and said you’ve done all this shit- you’ve killed mafia members, you’ve done jail time, your family and wife are dead- you’ve been living here for weeks and you’ve just gotten on first name terms with two oddballs who live with you. You’re sentenced to death and we’re here to kill you but if you say you want to live, then we let you live. What do you say?”

 

Hoshi stared with wide-eyed confusion. She was asking him if he wanted to live or die at a moments notice. His head dropped down slightly.

 

“I...don’t know...I just...”

 

He paused.

 

“What is really the point. If I live...what do I have. I have no family and no friends. I have nothing to my name in the outside world but a death sentence and the only thing I can actually do is play tennis. What kind of life is that...I’m a waste of space...”

 

“Uh, mm...very valid points but there’s one teensy mistake you made in that little spiel.” Iruma said, pointedly, with a very prominent smirk.

 

“What...?”

 

She leant over.

 

“You do have friends, ya shrimp-dick.” She grinned. She glanced over as Shinguji for back-up, who offered an affirmative nod.

 

For a split second, Hoshi had never looked as happy to be called a shrimp-dick in his life.

 

“....alright, I’ll concede that point, but you two have your own lives to live. Well...I dunno what kind of life you lead but killing women isn’t something I wanna be associated with.” Hoshi said grimly.

 

“I...suppose that’s perfectly normal.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, but that’s make-up Kiyo. Seriously, do you as you have any memory of killing women?”

 

Shinguji looked mildly alarmed by the question.

 

“I...” He trailed. “I remember....waking up to see a dead girl one time a few months ago. I remember very vague patches of carrying out these murders but nothing really...concrete.”

 

“Hold on- you know you’ve killed women yet you don’t remember? How does that work?”

 

“I kept a record of each one...” It felt odd to say that out loud. “I had them in my room. I researched each one. After my sister died...my memory became patchy. I’ve always known I’ve been doing something for her. I’ve been living for her. That’s really all I can tell y--”

 

“See? This is natural, less-creepy Kiyo. Lipstick-sister-banging Kiyo is the killer, right?So even if you get sent to jail- you still have a case of extreme mental illness, right? That’s more of a chance than star-boy had.”

 

“You make it sound like I’ve been caught already.”

 

“Nah, s’just like...if you do get caught then it wasn’t like it was the real you, right?”

 

“Um...”

 

“It’s cool, Kiyo- we’ll keep an eye on you, okay? No more sister-loving murders happenin’ anymore! Wait...isn’t that why you’re here? Does Usami know about this?”

 

“Mm....” Was his only reply.

 

“It doesn’t matter....as long as you aren’t coming for anybody I know.” He was clearly displeased with Shinguji’s ‘other life’ but he seemed to accept the fact that the Shinguji before them was somewhat innocent.

 

“Oh, my god- you guys! I just had an idea! Holy shit! Can you imagine if we lived together?”

 

“...what?”

 

Iruma turned to Hoshi.

 

“Like, when we got out? Okay, picture it. We have a shitty apartment where we live. I make the most money making inventions, duh, Kiyo does his...shit....yeah, his- whatever he does and you just do whatever- maybe try and play tennis again- but we’d all be cool! Like...that way...you have people in your life! You have people to live with! Yeah, we might not be wife material and I sure as shit ain’t havin’ your kids, but- hey!”

 

Her proposal seemed to take the other two aback.

 

“Like...shit man...” Iruma stumbled to her feet, only to fall back onto Hoshi’s bed. “I’ve made enough money for myself to move out but it’s lonely as shit to do that. I wouldn’t share a bathroom with half of these dipshits but you guys have impressed me today. We could just...live man. Hoshi gets to live. Kiyo gets to stop....whatever you were doing...i’ll make an invention to....make you...whatever....normal....”

 

Shinguji listened to Iruma trail, before getting up and joining her on the bed.

 

“I can’t deny that sounds nice. You aren’t my sister and you certainly don’t pass the criteria to be one of her friends...” Iruma breathed a very loud sigh of relief, even though it was beginning to sound like ‘Lipstick Kiyo’ was making his way back in the driver’s seat, “...so I guess that means you’re just going to have to be one of mine.”

 

“We could have a creepy basement shrine for your sister, okay? Like something outta a horror movie.”

 

“You’d better not be planning to sleep here tonight.” Hoshi warned, but joined them on the bed anyway.

 

“And star-boy could start his own mafia group.”

 

“Innaprops...”

 

“Sorry...Well....that is if you don’t die. Hey- you never answered my question from earlier? If you had to choose....would you live or be fine with carrying out your death sentence?”

 

Hoshi hummed softly.

 

_*bing bong bing bong*_

 

_“A-Ahem! It’s now ten ’o’ clock, which means it’s night-time! Sweet dreams! Tomorrow’s the start of a new day!”_

 

“Y’know what...? I think...I might give this ‘living’ thing a try...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um...the end?


End file.
